


The Johnson Twins

by SupernaturalFlavoredLollipop



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural Novels - Various
Genre: Big Brother Dean, Comedy, Cursed Object, F/M, Gen, Hunter Dean, Hunter Sam, Other, POV Dean Winchester, POV Sam Winchester, Shenanigans, dean and sam - Freeform, dean and sam pretend to be married to other characters, new female hunters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-18 07:22:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3561092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupernaturalFlavoredLollipop/pseuds/SupernaturalFlavoredLollipop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam encounter two rival female hunters on their latest case, and are surprised to find out exactly who they are…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Johnson Twins

“Who the  _fuck_  were those two?” Dean practically shouted, tearing off his tie and throwing it across the room as he stormed into the hotel. Sam followed him, noticeably less riled up.

“Dean, Jesus, calm down. So a couple of other hunters beat us to it. It’s not the end of the world.”

“The Fed thing is  _our game_ , Sam.  _We_  do the Fed thing.”

“Dean, all the hunters who are any good do the Fed thing.”

Dean turned to his brother, jerking a thumb back at himself. “ _We_  do the rock star names.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Oh my God, Dean, calm the fuck down. Just because someone else went as Agents Sambora and Sixx today… man. I hate to say this, but have a drink or something.” Sam sat down at the small table, loosening his tie and opening his laptop.

“I just want to know who the hell those women were.” Dean stated, taking Sam’s advice and pouring himself a glass of scotch. “They made us look like assholes.”

“You made yourself look like an asshole, Dean.”

“I resent that remark.” Dean frowned at Sam. Sam, in true fashion, ignored him.

“They looked really familiar. I  _know_  I’ve seen them before somewhere. Just let me look for a second…. I think… yup.” He pulled up a surveillance video and spun the laptop around so Dean could see. It was from a case they’d worked on last year- a siren in a strip club. “See the two strippers nearest the camera?”

Dean sat at the table and peered at the screen.

“You keep strip club surveillance footage on your laptop?” Dean raised an eyebrow at his brother.

“Just watch the video, Dean. It was from a case.”

Dean shot his brother a disbelieving look and brought his eyes back to the footage. The woman closest to the camera had long blonde hair, all curled up like a victoria’s secret model. She was wearing some kind of pink sparkly scarf-like lingerie and huge clear heels, and was spinning around the pole. The dancer to her left had big, ebony hair with bleach blond tips that fell around her head like a waterfall, and flawless dark brown skin. She was dressed as a cowgirl, in the smallest shorts Sam was pretty sure he’d ever seen, on the longest pair of legs. Dean was pretty sure those shorts were why Sam had kept the video, even if he would never admit it.

“I feel like I’m watching an Aerosmith video.” Sam mumbled, transfixed.

“I feel like this is about to devolve into a Casa Erotica DVD.” Dean said, throwing back the last of his scotch. “So who are they?”

“Keep watching. You haven’t seen the best part.” Sam told him.

“Do they take their clothes off?” Dean asked, interest piqued.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Just watch.” The video continued to roll, and the girls continued to dance. Suddenly, a hand came up and grabbed the one woman, the cowgirl, by the ass. In one fluid motion, she had hauled the gigantic biker up next to her, roundhouse kicked him in the face, and thrown his ass right back off the stage. Sam paused the video as the blonde in the pink lingerie dove off of her platform to attack the man, grabbing a bottle as she went.

“What the hell did I just watch?” Dean’s eyes were wide. “Holy shit. She straight up Chuck Norris’d his ass.”

“Yeah.” Sam nodded. “And then the other one attacked him with a bottle.”

“That explains why they weren’t there when we showed up to poke around. They  _definitely_   _got fired_ after that.” Dean shook his head at the computer. “On the bright side, that’s the last time that douche will ever grab a stripper’s ass.”

Sam nodded. “And that wasn’t even what they were hunting.  _That’s_  why I remembered this video. Dean, meet the Johnson Twins.”

“ _Those_  are the Johnson Twins?” Dean raised his eyebrows. “I thought the Johnson Twins were dead.”

Sam shrugged. “Apparently not.”

“You got any more on them?”

Sam nodded. “Give me a few hours. They hide themselves better than we do.”

* * *

“The Johnson Twins…” Sam sat back from his computer a couple of hours later, stretching, his back cracking. “Glory and Desi Johnson. Not actually twins, not even sisters. Cousins actually, twice removed on their mother’s side. They come from a whole family of hunters. Their parents were killed when they were little, and they were raised together by an aunt, who appears to have been a witch and kept them out of hunting as long as she could. At sixteen, they dropped out of school and took to the road. And apparently haven’t looked back since.” He spun the laptop around once again to show Dean a series of mugshots. Glory was the blonde, Desi the brunette. Dean was impressed. They had a lot of mugshots, all under different names. They looked nonchalant in all of them.

“Jeez, they’re even hot in their mugshots.” Dean let out a low whistle. Sam rolled his eyes.

“They’re super deadly. And a little bit nuts, it looks like. You remember that vampire nest we came up on in Colorado last year? The one with like, twelve headless vamps laying around?”

“That place was a fucking bloodbath. They weren’t just headless- those guys were straight up mincemeat. And we got to bury all of them because some asshole hunters can’t clean up their own mess.” Dean frowned. “That was _them_?” Sam nodded. “How the hell did they kill  _twelve_  vamps? There are only two of them.”

“I dunno Dean. But it looks like we’re gonna have to play nice on this one, because they’re already here and we need information on this case.”

“How’d they fake their own death? You got anything on that?”

Sam shook his head. “No. I mean, you heard same as I did, they pulled a Thelma and Louise off the Grand Canyon. Not sure how they got out of that one.”

Dean stood up from his resting place at the foot of his bed, tucked his gun into the back waistband of his jeans, and grabbed his jacket. “Well, I feel like finding out. Wanna take a ride with me, Sammy? There’s only so many places a couple of hunters can be staying in this town.”

_to be continued…_


	2. Twist and Shout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean comes up with a "Fail Safe" plan to make the Johnson Twins cooperate. This plan doesn't actually work very well.

“That was a bust.” Sam sighed, unlocking their hotel room door later that night.

 

“They're not in any of the motels. Are these chicks ghosts? What the hell?” Dean flopped onto the gold and green houndstooth comforter of his hotel bed. “This... is bullshit.”

 

“They're either squatting somewhere, or rented a place.” Sam shrugged. “We can catch up with them at the next crime scene. Because with this kind of magic going on, there's _going_ to be another body.”

 

Dean nodded, throwing an arm over his eyes. “I hate cursed objects.” He sighed. “Especially before we know what they are.”

 

Sam frowned. So far they knew absolutely nothing about this one, other than it _appeared_ to be a cursed object. An antique store owner had turned up dead the week before, then one of her employees, both “weird accidents.” The brothers had rolled into town this morning and tried to investigate the death of a frequent shopper at the store, but had been shot down when they were surprised at the appearance of two “Feds” already there, Agents Sambora and Sixx, which happened to be the ID's the Winchesters were carrying at the time. Dean had tried to schmooze his way in, gotten an incredible shutdown by the girl who turned out to be Glory Johnson, and they'd returned to the hotel. They'd normally just leave this job to the hunters who were already there, except they'd been tipped off that this cursed object was something Crowley apparently wanted, so it was something Sam and Dean were now hellbent on destroying. Plus, Dean's pride was now wounded and he felt he had something to prove.

 

Dean sat up all of a sudden, a glimmer of hope flashing in his green eyes. “Sammy, I have the _best_ plan ever.”

 

“Oh no.” Sam gulped. “What is it?”

 

“A surefire way to make the Johnson Twins play ball.” He shot Sam a cocky grin. “Don't worry Sammy, it's genius. We just gotta wait until another body shows up and opportunity comes a-knocking.”

 

“ _You're seriously not gonna tell me what this plan is_?”

 

“Nope. It's a need-to-know-basis.”

 

“You are such an asshole.”

 

* * *

They didn't have to wait long. The antique store janitor turned up dead the next morning, fallen from the balcony while washing the windows. Dean and Sam pulled up in the Impala. As they got out, Dean tossed Sam an FBI ID card.

 

“I already brought my Agent Hamill one, Dean.” Sam told him.

 

Dean shook his head. “Nah, man, use the one I just gave you.” Before Sam could protest, Dean strode up to the deputy out front and flashed his badge. He could see the whole scene from where he was standing. Glory and Desi Johnson were already there studying the body, wearing demure power suits, their hair pinned up, guns holstered at their sides. Desi was even wearing a pair of glasses. They looked every bit the part of FBI agents. Dean smiled at the deputy. “Agents Sambora and Sixx. FBI sent us down.”

 

Sam's eyes got wide behind Dean as he looked at his badge. It listed him as Agent Sixx. His heart sank. Desi Johnson was currently posing as Agent Sixx. They couldn't _both_ be Agent Sixx. _What the fuck was Dean doing?_

 

The deputy peered at him. “Agents Sambora and Sixx are already here. And they look a hell of a lot different than you two.” He raised an eyebrow at the brothers.

 

Dean smiled and nodded slowly. “Yeah. Bureaucratic mistake.” He leaned in towards the deputy. “Those two over there. They're our _wives_.” He shrugged. “They sent us all here by mistake. Typo on some orders. Supposed to send one set, sent both. Taxpayer dollars at work, man.”

 

The deputy looked at him incredulously. “Wow. That'll be a lot of paperwork to handle, and someone will have hell to pay.” Sam stood behind Dean, flabbergasted. He didn't know what to think, he just kept opening and closing his mouth, thinking of something to say. He was drawing a blank.

 

Dean nodded. “Yup. They really screwed the pooch on this one.” He winked at the deputy, then stepped over the yellow crime scene tape. By this time, the Johnson Twins had noticed the Winchesters were there, and that something was up. They were approaching, fast, and they did _not_ look pleased.

 

“Dude, _what the hell_? _This_ is your plan?” Sam hissed at Dean under his breath.

 

“What better way to keep an eye on them than be married to them?” Dean asked. “It's fucking brilliant.”

 

“ _It's fucking nuts_.” Sam caught Dean by the arm. “They are going to be seriously pissed, dude. Did you ever think they might try to kill us?”

 

“Are you afraid of a couple of girls?”

 

Sam pursed his lips and glared at Dean. “That's _really_ sexist. And yes. These girls, definitely. Have you forgotten how many times we've gotten our asses kicked by girls? Abbadon, Meg, Rowena, Ruby, Raphael-” he was cut off.

 

“Excuse me.” A very unamused female voice chimed in from the side. Both brothers turned to look. Desi Johnson stood next to them, hands on her hips, glasses tilted low on her nose. Her cousin, Glory, stood slightly behind her. Neither woman looked happy. “What exactly is going on here?”

 

Dean smiled his most charming smile, and flashed his badge. “Agent Sambora. This is my partner, Agent Sixx.”

 

“Bullshit. I'm Sixx and she's Sambora.” Desi indicated her cousin. “Cut the shit. You're the Winchesters.”

 

“Well, yeah. But officially, at least as far as the county here is concerned, you and Sam are Agents Sixx, and Glory and I are Agents Sambora, and we're happily married.”

 

The girls paused for a minute, and their faces went blank, as though they couldn't even fathom a plan this stupid. Finally, Glory spoke up. “What the fuck would you tell them that for?” Her hand was inching a little too close to her gun for Sam's comfort.

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Sam held up his hands. “We just need information on this cursed object. And this was... Dean's best idea on how to get close to you.”

 

“This was his... _best_ idea?” Desi eyed Dean.

 

“You aren't the easiest women to track down. And you have a long record of... well... not playing well with others.” Sam shrugged.

 

“So trapping us in fake matrimony was your go-to solution?” Glory still looked like she wanted to kill someone, but her hand had left the immediate vicinity of her firearm.

 

“You do have to give him credit, it is inventive.” Desi threw back over her shoulder.

 

“It's fucking stupid.” Glory replied.

 

“Hey now. I like inventive better.” Dean furrowed his brows. “Either way, you're stuck with us now.”

 

“God damn it.” Glory hissed under her breath. She was about to say something else, probably nothing very nice, when the deputy in charge of the scene approached.

 

“Everything all right here, folks?” He asked, eyeing them strangely.

 

Glory snapped quickly from pissed-off hunter to charming agent. “Oh, everything is great.” She smiled at the man. She wasn't about to blow her cover.

 

“You all seem a little... tense.”

 

“The Bureau just surprised us, that's all.” Desi chimed in, shooting daggers at Dean and Sam but then grinning at the deputy. “Between you and me, they've been mishandling cases for a while now. We're just surprised to see our, er, _husbands_ , here as well.” She spoke the last part of the sentence as though just saying it were going to kill her.

 

“Oh my God. Like we'd be that bad of a catch.” Dean whispered to Sam. Sam elbowed him in the side.

 

“Gotcha.” The deputy nodded. “Well, let me know if I can be of any assistance.” He walked away. Desi and Glory turned their attention back to the Winchesters.

 

“You two have _a lot_ of explaining to do.” Glory said, eyes narrowed. “Why is this case so damned important that you'd pull a stunt like this?”

 

_to be continued..._

 


	3. Velocity Girl

“So let me get this straight... you need to find this cursed object because a renegade demon told you that the King of Hell wants to get his hands on it?” Glory Johnson sat back in the red Naugahyde seat at the diner, looking skeptically at Dean and Sam. The brothers nodded.

 

“But you have no idea what the object is... and you don't actually care why Crowley wants it, you just want to keep it from him to piss him off?” Desi added.

 

“I never said that!” Dean protested.

 

“It was _heavily implied_ that you want it just so he can't have it.” Desi raised her brows at Dean.

 

“We need to destroy it because _it's a cursed object and those are generally bad._ ” Sam sighed. “The fact that Crowley wants it makes it more troubling, for sure. And yes, Dean does enjoy irking Crowley every chance he gets.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Oh _come on_! If you could piss off the King of Hell without him trying to kill you, wouldn't you?”

 

Desi and Glory both appeared to think about that for a moment, before Glory nodded. “Fair enough. You do have a point. I'd probably fuck with him, too.”

 

“We have a problem here, though.” Desi's features took on a serious tone, and she looked from Sam to Dean.

 

“What's that?” Sam asked her.

 

“First of all, that bullshit that you pulled back there was really... bullshit. We have to pretend to be _married to you_ while we investigate now?” Glory shook her head.

 

Desi stopped her. “Glory, we'll deal with that later. I mean the _real_ problem.”

 

“Oh. Yeah. _That's_ a bummer.”

 

“ _Oh my God, ladies, what's a bummer_?” Dean was dying.

 

“This cursed object... it isn't a cursed object. It's a cursed person.” Desi told them.

 

“What?” Sam and Dean asked in unison.

 

“We're pretty sure it isn't an object at all. We think it's a cursed person. Which, to be frank, we've never encountered before.” Glory repeated. “We think it's the new shop book keeper. Which you two would know if you hadn't been such epic assholes yesterday.”

 

“You stole our names.” Dean leveled at her.

 

“We didn't steal your names. We stole Sambora and Sixx's names, same as you did.” Glory rolled her eyes.

 

“You didn't have to make a big scene and get us kicked off of the crime scene.” Dean narrowed his eyes at her.

 

“Dude, you were sneaking on like you were in “The Pink Panther.” It was ridiculous. You were going to get us all found out. I had to get rid of you. I had no idea who the hell you were.” Glory waved her hand at him, as though willing him to disappear.

 

“I did not Pink Panther my way in! I was smooth as fuck! Listen, you obviously-”

 

“GUYS!” Desi and Sam cut Dean off. Dean and Glory looked at them sheepishly. “Stop arguing, Jesus.” Desi continued. “We're gonna have to work together on this.” She eyed Sam. “Whether we like it or not.”

 

“I'm sure we can find some common ground.” Sam said. He turned to Desi. “If you didn't know who we were yesterday, how did you know who we were this morning at the crime scene?”

 

“We looked you up yesterday.” Desi gave him a strange look. “Probably same as you did us.”

 

“Yeah, about that... we were actually wondering something.” Dean started. “You two are supposed to be dead. Like, extremely dead.”

 

“Yeah, so are you two. Several times.” Glory quipped.

 

“Princess, we've _been_ dead several times.” Dean retorted. “How'd you fake your death? I mean, off the Grand Canyon?”

 

Glory winked at him. “Wouldn't you like to know?”

 

The waitress brought the check, and Dean reached for his wallet. “It's cool, guys, I'll get it.” Desi smiled. She reached down into her large purse on the floor. Coming back up, she threw two twenties on the table, and she and Glory stood up. “We're gonna visit the ladies room. We'll meet you out front.”

They walked towards the back of the restaurant.

 

“That didn't go nearly as bad as I thought it would go.” Dean said, turning to Sam.

 

“If you and Glory can keep from killing each other, I think we'll be able to figure this all out.” Sam agreed. He smirked. “And while you were busy arguing, I turned on the GPS on Desi's cell phone. So we can track them now.”

 

“Good thinking. I don't trust them for a minute. Those girls are wily.” Dean looked towards the back of the restaurant. “Come to think of it, they've been gone a while... you think they ditched us?”

 

Sam made a move to get up, and quickly found that his leg was stuck. “What the hell?” He looked under the table. “Jesus Christ. We are such unbelievable dumb-asses.”

 

Dean found himself stuck too. He looked down. Their ankles were handcuffed to the table legs.

 

Dean looked at Sam, his cheeks turning red with anger. “ _Son of a bitch!_ ” He turned to Sam. “Turn on that friggin GPS, Sammy!”

 

_to be continued_

 

 

 


	4. Circus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean, Sam, Desi, and Glory go after the "cursed person"... though less than gracefully.

“Shit. How did you find us?” Glory opened the door to the small cabin, rolling her eyes at the brothers. “Hey Desi, I hope you got yourself all dolled up girl, because our hubby's are here.” She walked into the house, letting the door partially close on Dean and Sam.

 

“That was a nice trick you pulled back there, Desi.” Dean caught the door before it slammed in his face, looking right at her, winking. “Expertly executed. Handcuffs when we weren't looking. I have to say, I'm impressed.”

 

It was Desi's turn to roll her eyes. “Well, thanks. That was my _goal_ , actually. Impress Dean Winchester.” She put a pair of oven mitts into her purse. “How'd you find us?”

 

“Not going to tell you that.” Dean smirked. “What's with the oven mitts?”

 

“We're going after Elizabeth Pomfrey.” Glory stated.

 

“And Elizabeth Pomfrey is?” Dean raised his brows.

 

“I'm gonna guess she's the cursed person.” Sam said, standing there with his hands on his hips.

 

Dean nodded. “Right. Seriously, though, if you don't want to touch her... haven't you ladies ever heard of _gloves?_ ”

 

“The oven mitts are... available.” Desi shrugged.

 

“They do lack a certain amount of style.” Glory admitted. “But they'll get the job done.”

 

“What do you plan to do with her once you have her? How do you even get rid of a curse on a person?” Sam asked the older of the two women.

 

“Is there even a way?” Dean asked. “Or do we have to gank her.”

 

Glory looked at him, hands on hips. “We tried to lose you, because _unlike you two ass hats_ , we're going to try to cure her. Not just knock her off and call it quits.” She shook her head.

 

“That's why you've been trying to get rid of us all along?” Sam asked. Both women nodded.

 

“You two don't fuck around.” Desi stated bluntly.

 

“From what we hear, neither do you.” Dean countered.

 

“We at least _try_ to keep people alive.” Glory glared at him.

 

“Hey, hey, so do we!” Dean put up his hands. “Sammy here's practically a hippie. Free love, hug a tree, all that shit.”

 

“What?” Sam gave him a long-suffering look. “Whatever, Dean.” He turned back to Desi. “If there's a way to cure her, I'll find it. We're not just going to kill some woman because she's cursed.”

 

Desi looked at the brothers suspiciously. “Are you sure?” They both nodded.

 

“But it's pretty important we get to her before Crowley does. Because whatever he wants with her, can't be good.” Sam countered.

 

“Fine.” Glory sighed. “We'll all go get her. But you'll have to find your own gloves or something. We only have two pairs of oven mitts.”

* * *

 

They all piled out of the Impala in front of the antique shop. It was mid afternoon, and there were a couple of customers. They went in, and the girls and Sam pretended to browse while Dean took a look around, sneaking into the back. He found a door to an office, and pushed it open gently. A middle aged woman sat at the desk, typing numbers into a spreadsheet on a computer. She looked up when she heard the door creak.

 

“Can I help you?” She asked, pushing her glasses up on her nose. She looked like a kindly grandmother. Dean cringed inwardly. He hoped she didn't try to run. Tackling Mrs. Claus was not going to be the highlight of his day.

 

“Are you Elizabeth Pomfrey?” Dean asked, entering the room. He sneakily checked to make sure his sleeves were pulled all the way down and his gloves were pulled up. He didn't want any of her weird curse bullshit touching him.

 

“Yes. I am. Why?” She looked at him suspiciously.

 

“Ms. Pomfrey, I'm afraid you need to come with me.” He pulled out his FBI badge. “I'm Agent Sambora. I'm here investigating the series of deaths around the shop recently.”

 

“I see.” Ms. Pomfrey stood up. “Just let me get my coat.” She gathered her coat and approached him. He involuntarily stepped away from her. All it took was a second, but she shoved all her weight against him, sending him toppling over a chair, and she booked it towards the exit.

 

“She's coming your way, Sammy!” Dean shouted, climbing up from the floor. He'd been taken out by an old lady- he'd never live that one down. He quickly sprinted after her down the hall. The shop was in a frenzy. He saw Desi, Glory, and Sam in a pile, and under them, Ms. Pomfrey's hands and feet sticking out. All he could see of the cursed woman was her fingers and her sensible, non slip shoes.

 

“We got her.” Desi said, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear. She looked around at the horrified shoppers.

 

“It's cool, everyone. FBI business.” Dean flashed his badge, pulled out his gun, and they pulled Ms. Pomfrey off of the ground. He saw some of the patrons eye the oven mitts and gardening gloves they were wearing to handle the elderly woman. “I said FBI business! Move along!” Dean shouted.

 

They pulled Ms. Pomfrey out of the building, Sam on one arm and Glory on the other, Dean following with his gun trained on her. When they got to the Impala, He moved around to face her. “Why'd you run?”

 

“Why are you after me?”

 

“Honey, everyone you touch dies. We're here to fix that. Or had you not noticed?” Glory stepped in, looking Ms. Pomfrey up and down grimly.

 

“I noticed. But it's been going on a long time. I got used to it.” She shrugged. “I figured you were going to kill me. I ran.”

 

“A regular Typhoid Mary, aren't you?” Dean scowled. “You got used to it? You didn't think to try to stop it?” Elizabeth Pomfrey shrugged nonchalantly. “Great. She's cursed and a bitch. Put her in the trunk.”

 

“We're gonna put a middle aged woman in the trunk?” Sam asked incredulously.

 

“Yes. Yes we are.” Dean replied. “Only, don't think of it that way, Sammy. We're putting a middle aged killer in the trunk. For safe keeping. She can't accidentally off anyone while she's in there.”

 

Desi opened the trunk, and Glory cuffed the woman and pushed her in.

 

“I have rights! I'm an American citizen! I pay taxes!” Desi slammed the trunk of the car.

 

Desi looked at Dean, then her eyes settled on Sam and she gave him a soft smile. “Good riddance.” She said. “Let's get going. The sooner we uncurse this bitch, the better.”

 


End file.
